Why Don't You Live a Little
by Malva
Summary: Misaki is at a ball and bored. She would've preferred dealing with boredom rather than November 11. At least that's what she's trying to convince herself of. Vignette. Misaki/November 11, kind of.


**Why Don't You Live a Little**

Bored out of her mind, she tapped her fingers against the white tablecloth. By now, most people were either dancing to the sentimental melodies played by the instrumental live band or mingling at the buffet table. A few were probably drinking more than they should, judging by the volume of laughter.

Misaki had deliberately chosen a small table that was in a far, desolate corner of the banquet hall where she could sit in relative quiet, and take slow sips of her red wine. So far it had worked out well for her.

"You look lovely, Misaki," a smooth voice spoke.

Startled, she turned her head and met the gaze of Jack Simon a.k.a. November 11 who was nearly looming over her. His sudden appearance and the fact that he'd gotten so close without her even noticing immediately set her on edge. She could never let her guard down with him.

"Good evening, Mr. Simon. I did not expect to see you here." Despite her surprise, she managed to retain a professional tone and hadn't let her feelings of discomfort show.

He gave her one of those charming smiles of his, but that didn't make her feel any more relaxed.

"I had an invitation."

"I see," she said.

Of course, how had she not realized it right away? This was the annual official ball of the National Police Agency. All the higher ups were gathered as well as plenty of other guests who were important enough to get invited. It was no wonder that someone who officially served as an MI6 liaison would get an invitation. As both Section Chief of Foreign Affairs Division Four and the daughter of Superintendent Supervisor Kirihara Naoyasu, it was Misaki's duty to attend as well.

Misaki had never been fond of large gatherings of this kind. Her attempts to socialize were always rather stiff and this evening was no exception. What she liked even less was finding what to wear for such occasions. She always made the same mistake – taking Kanami with her for shopping. It unfailingly ended with her friend convincing her to buy something which had less fabric than Misaki was comfortable with. This time it was a sleek blue dress; the neckline was fine, but it had too high a slit for her taste.

November 11, of course, looked as impeccable as ever in a three-piece grey suit. He wore it with an ease that suggested he felt as comfortable in it as in his own skin.

"May I sit?" he asked politely.

She was the slightest bit tempted to say no, even while knowing how childish that would be.

"Be my guest," she said.

Of course, instead of simply sitting down, he took the chair to her left, moved it a few inches closer and only then sat down. The nerve.

"It is a rather grand occasion, isn't it?" November said with the nonchalance of one used to such environments.

She looked at the elegant, almost opulent design of the banquet hall that had been rented for the ball. The buffet table offered a veritable feast that could satisfy the taste of even the pickiest guest. People were walking around or sitting at tables with glasses filled with wine, champagne, whiskey, and brandy in their hands. Misaki was unimpressed.

"Yes, quite," was her clipped answer.

He chuckled. "You could try to make it at least look like you enjoy being here."

She barely suppressed a scowl. "It hardly matters if I enjoy this or not. It is merely another part of work."

"Ah, I expected you would say something like that."

She tried to retain a neutral expression at those words. She didn't like the implication that he could predict her reactions so easily.

"But you're not going to just sit in a corner for the rest of the evening, are you, Misaki?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, letting her carefully composed expression slip.

His casual use of her first name still never failed to annoy her. She was sure he was familiar enough with Japanese culture to know that it implied close intimacy. He never did this with any of her other colleagues which proved that he was doing it solely to rile her.

November 11 smiled. "Would you like to dance?"

She looked at him, taken aback.

"Um… aren't there important people here you should talk to?" She was aware that this effort to deflect the offer sounded rather lame, but hadn't been able to come up with anything better on the spot.

November's smile did not falter even for a moment.

"I'm sure no one would begrudge me one dance with a beautiful woman," he said.

It took her some effort not to blush. She was annoyed at herself for feeling so flustered at a compliment that – she was sure – he gave without much thought.

He stood up and extended his arm for her to take.

There was a moment's hesitation on her part, but she knew it would be rude to refuse. Misaki got up from her chair and somewhat reluctantly placed her hand on his elbow. November's smile widened and immediately he put his own hand over hers. She almost wanted to say something in protest, but was aware that it would look silly. After all, she was an adult woman and this wasn't the first time in her life that a man asked her to dance.

Still, when they reached the dance floor and he drew her close, she suddenly felt nervous about his proximity. One of his hands slid from her arm to rest against her back and the other held hers in a gentle but firm grasp. She was acutely aware of these two points of contact and felt strangely uncomfortable. Her own grip on his shoulder was much more hesitant.

She had to admit that he led with effortless confidence. However, Misaki couldn't help but be stiff as a board in his arms. Far as this infamous MI6 agent was concerned, she wasn't used to this kind of interaction and most of all this kind of close quarters.

"Please relax. I assure you I won't bite." November 11 sounded amused.

She frowned. Really, why couldn't she just relax? She was acting like a nervous school girl who had been asked to dance by her crush. Well, she couldn't just lose in this situation.

Misaki willed her tense muscles to loosen and concentrated on following his lead as smoothly as possible.

"There you go. It isn't so bad, is it?"

Her answer came out curt and monosyllabic.

November 11 sighed. His breath brushed against her temple.

"You know, the sky won't fall down if you let yourself have a bit of fun."

Suddenly Misaki felt bad. She shouldn't be acting like he'd forced her into this. November 11 had gone out of his way to ask her to dance and she'd agreed. If she really wanted, she could have found some excuse to decline. There were certainly a hundred and one reasons why she shouldn't trust this man in any given situation, but this was simply a dance at a ball.

She looked up at him. "You're right. Then let us enjoy this while we can."

For an instant surprise flitted over his features, but that was quickly replaced by a smile that made his ice-blue eyes appear warm.

November 11 let go of her and twirled her around once, even twice to then pull her back into his arms. The movement was seamless, but a bit flashy and completely like him. Misaki couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

For the time that stretched between the first chord and the last one, politics and obligations were set aside. For all she knew tomorrow they could end up on opposing frontlines, but it was all right to let go only for a little while. It wasn't like the world would fall apart because of it.

END

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Darker than BLACK. I don't make any profit from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's note:** Besides there being too few Darker than BLACK fics, there are too few Misaki/November 11 ones. Shame. They rock so I wrote this vignette. The story is self-edited and any mistakes are mine alone. Any kind of feedback is welcome.


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